Self Destruction Is An Art Of Its Own
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: Lightning bending requires an absence of emotions and peace of mind; Azula had anything but during the comet. In turn when she goes to strike Zuko, the lightning ends up backfiring.


Everything hurt—her arms, her legs, her head, her heart…her mind. Her heart and mind especially, both racing much faster than she knew that they should. Much faster than she knew was healthy. But that would have to wait.

She stared Zuko down more venomously than she had before. He needed to go down, and for good this time. That crown was hers, she was born to wear it, and she wouldn't let him have it. Not when she as so close.

And yet in the back of her mind she knew that it was useless. If her father won, his Phoenix King title would over-ride her Fire Lord title by a mile. And if he lost, she'd fall with him.

All the same she wanted that crown.

She couldn't say why, but it _had_ to be hers.

She had something to prove to someone.

Maybe to herself alone.

Azula grasped her head in her hands, hiding behind the nearest pillar. She had to get a grip before Zuko found her. She had to or she would lose everything and to someone worth less than the grime on the floor beneath her feet.

She scowled and pulled herself back onto the battlefield throwing all of her energy into each blast of fire. Each one seeming to come out smaller and weaker than the next.

And in the midst of her anger, Zuko called to her, "No lightning today? What's the matter, afraid I'll redirect it?" It sounded somehow distance, as if it came from some alternate reality. Perhaps she was the distant one.

Azula yelled something back. She knew she did, but she couldn't recall it for the life of her. She was all too focused on the lightning. The lightning that sizzled and crackled on her fingertips. It was nothing but raw power. She could feel it. She moved her arms in a slow arching spiral, calling even more electricity forward.

Yes, there was indeed so much power.

The power she had been seeking out since the beginning of the Agni Kai.

But something was wrong.

Very wrong, she realized.

But only after she had released the lightning that had once resided on her fingertips.

In a dangerously enticing dance the lightning, pure energy and power indeed, exploded. The strike would have been amazing to watch, had she been able to. It would have been a perfect and critical hit—could have won her the Agni Kai had it struck its target…

Had it actually went a further distance.

It hadn't went any distance at all.

Each and every hair on her body frizzed up wildly. Azula felt her skin sizzle and prickle long before she could process what was happening. Though long wasn't really the term for it had happened so quickly—and yet everything seemed agonizingly slow.

She shut her eyes, and had just barely enough time to throw her arm over them. And the lightning erupted around her in a dazzling explosion she would have prided herself with and shared with her father had it not hit her.

The faintest—to her anyhow—roll of thunder filled Azula's ears, drowning out the sound of her body hitting the merciless floor.

Or perhaps it was merciful, for it drowned the ringing in her ears and saved her from the sight of her blistered arms.

She could no longer feel anything save for a sharp white hot pulse coming from somewhere on her torso. But other than that, she was numb. She'd probably fried her nerves along with everything else.

Azula couldn't remember if she screamed or not. She wondered if she even had time to do so between processing what was going on and actually getting hit. The thought lingered there for a moment before everything fell completely away.

She came to sometime later, expecting to find herself in some dank cell next to her father and with a ground as hard as the one she'd fallen asleep to. However as her senses returned she came to find that what she lie on was soft and warm. She blinked, the sunlight seeping through the window was so bright Azula almost wished she was in the prison cell. She gave a pained moan and rolled over. Right onto her scorched arm. She gave a sharp surprised cry, tears clinging to her lashes.

Azula took in a few deep breaths that helped soothed her so little she may as well not have taken them at all. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was already crying, she might as well assess the damage. She lifted her right arm into view; the scars on it would be zigzagged and plentiful. Her other arm was bandaged but she couldn't imagine that it looked any better. Though it wasn't her dominate arm, so maybe it had taken less damage after all.

The burn marks on her middle were just as bountiful, they stretched across her waist, up to her belly button, and just a little above her chest.

Azula stifled a sob. A sob that came out as a pained choked noise when she felt the jabs and stings on her face. There would be scars there too—she was sure of it—ones she couldn't hide under layers of clothing.

Such poetic justice, she could almost appreciate it.

Almost. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from sinking into an all-out bawl.

All the same she let out another soft sob. Despite her best efforts she couldn't stop the tears. _What had she done to herself?_ She shouldn't have tried lightning bending, not in the state she was in.

Zuko could hear her cries from well down the hallway. His stomach fluttered with so many butterflies it almost hurt. He came to her room and quietly slipped through the door. His guilt reaching new heights upon finally seeing her; weeping and vulnerable. He shouldn't have coaxed her into using lightning. What was he thinking.

He was thinking of winning and nothing else, he realized.

It was stupid. No matter what the outcome, it was stupid. Either he would have gotten critically hit or it would be his fault that she hurt herself.

To his luck and dismay it was the latter of the two.

He was going to have to move in and change the bandages for her eventually. But fear clawed him to bits. So instead he stared at Azula, her body shaking and trembling. She clutched at the bed sheets with such ferocity he feared she'd snap her nails and hurt herself more.

Knowing her she had already assumed the worst.

It was true there would be scars and pretty much everywhere at that. But the physician had already informed him that most of them would grow faint over time, that only a few—the worst of them—would be raised and prominent. Those were mostly on her arms, and one on her back.

The cuts on her cheeks, though deep, would heal fully since he had managed to convince Katara to do some waterbending on them immediately after the last of the electricity left Azula's body. The only scar that would remain would be from the lesion tracing the line of her chin.

He hoped that the physician was right.

He didn't know if he could handle this, he looked at his weeping sister, every time she looked at herself. He didn't know if he could handle the guilt that came with it.

Azula finally noticed him. She turned her head and looked up at him with sad and desperate eyes. She shut them hard, embarrassment forming a lump in her throat. She came to realize that it wasn't just from the scarring but from the knowledge that the last thing Zuko saw her do was effectively kick her own ass.

Calling up the last dignity she could muster, she bought her sniveling to a stop. Not that it mattered, he'd probably been standing there for some time.

"Can I…" he held out the clean bandages.

Azula parted her lips but couldn't quite push a sound out, for fear that she'd start crying all over again.

Taking that as a yes he moved in and unwrapped her left arm. "Sorry I forgot to bandage the other arm…Aang came back and I had to make sure he was okay." He mentally slapped himself, knowing how bad that sounded.

Azula didn't respond any. It didn't surprise her in the slightest. Obviously the Avatar meant much more to Zuko—to everyone really—than she did.

Her brother tried to mask his mistake anyhow. "I mean, I knew that you would be okay because you're you. Aang, he's a little…" His voice dropped into a whisper, "he's a little wimpy." Zuko gently set her newly bandaged arm down. "Please don't tell him I said that."

Perhaps he wasn't just covering a mistake after all, perhaps he really was just that bad at talking to her. Not that she was any better. Zuko continued to cleanse and bandage her injuries in silence. The tension in the room fluctuating with Azula's mixed emotions.

"It's not as bad as you think it is." He said finally. "The scars I mean."

"It doesn't matter." Azula replied quickly. "No one will see anyhow, considering that I'm going to be locked away soon."

"About that." Zuko started. "I wasn't going to lock you away anywhere…unless you want me to. That is if you're willing to…uh…not kill everyone."

Azula shrugged as much as her ailments would allow. "That's going to be a bit hard for me to do right now anyways."

"Yes well you're going to get better soon so I'd appreciate it if you'd give me your word that you'll work with me."

"Work with you?"

"I figured that you could teach me some firebending and I could share the crown with you."

"I'd love to teach you Zuzu. We'll start with this nifty technique I learned during the comet. It's pretty easy; you hold out your right arm, build up all of your energy, and then you throw it at yourself. It's extremely efficient."

Zuko stifled a laugh, "okay now that was the most bitter thing I've heard in a long time, and I was talking to Mai before I came to visit you."

"It's not bitter, it's the truth. I really would love to teach you how to explode lightning in your face. It would save me a lot of trouble." Zuko could see the faintest smile appear as she let the insult out.

Despite himself he returned the smile. But just for a moment, "seriously I do want to work things out when you get better." He paused. "Or now."

Azula looked at the ceiling.

It's not like she had anything better to do.

"Alright Zuzu."


End file.
